Echoes of Power
by Bardiche
Summary: Summary: AU. What if Saruman was not idle after the fall of Isengard
1. Default Chapter

1st Fan Fic

            Disclaimer info: Tolkien is the master who owns all.  I am only a humble fan using his wonderful characters for fun only and not for profit.

            Summary:  AU.  What if Saruman was not idle after the fall of Isengard, (book canon).  Takes place after parting with Aragorn and his knights.

~~**~~

Chapter 1:  Echoes

_From the Return of the King:  _

_            "Soon the dwindling company following the Isen, turned west and rode through the Gap into the waste lands beyond, and then they turned northwards, and passed over the borders of Dunland.  The Dunlendings fled and hid themselves, for they were afraid of Elvish folk, though few indeed ever came to their country; but the travelers did not heed them, for they were still a great company and were well provided with all that they needed; and they went on their way at their leisure, setting up their tents when they would."  _

…or so they thought…

~~**~~

            Cold black eyes followed the progress of the riders as they continued northward through the dry, brush-filled landscape.  The wind picked up and spread the gold banners and carried the beautiful strains of Elven voices throughout the withered hills.  

            "They will not be singing for much longer.  Then the echoes will fade forever, finally stilled."  The sonorous voice intoned softly, each syllable carrying the deep fervor of hidden malice.  Black eyebrows narrowed together in anticipation of the coming slaughter.

            Suddenly, the tall figure turned and the deep voice barked sharply, "Gethluk, are all the forces in place?"  Obsidian eyes scanned the group of increasingly nervous Uruk hai commanders.

            Gethluk stepped forward and growled, "All are in place except for Grek's company.  They will be ready by the morning. The crebain will tell us when they are ready.  We **will** destroy them!"  The Uruk general trembled with eagerness and excitement. His eyes glinted and hand stroked the warbar on the table.

            The other Uruks stopped shuffling nervously and lifted their faces to the grey clad figure in front of them.  The white beard and hair reflected the ruddy torchlight as he gave the final instructions, "Bring back the golden haired witch and half-breed pretender alive.  Slaughter all of the others except for the old man.  Save the old man for me." Saruman's long-fingered hand twisted a metal object sitting on his right forefinger.  

"Go forth and conquer!"

~~**~~

            In the grey half-light of early dawn, horses stamped their feet waiting for their riders to begin the next leg of the journey.  Riders wandered, some talking quietly amongst themselves, others stroking the horses and singing softly.  The packs were put away and everyone was prepared to leave except for one hobbit.

            "Peregrin Took!  Where are you, you little scamp!" Gandalf's voice cut through the morning chill.

            "I'm coming, I'm coming!  Sorry, Gandalf, I'll be there in a minute."  Pippin frantically tried to free his waistcoat from a leather strap attached to a packhorse.  Pippin was standing on his tip-toes, trying to unwrap a buckle from a tear on the edge of the coat.

            "Here, Master Took, allow me to help you."

Soft, gentle hands reached down and quickly slipped the buckle from the loose thread and the relieved hobbit settled back firmly on his feet and looked up while turning red, "Thank you, Lord Elrond.  I just wanted a couple of apples for the ride, that's all."

A small smile appeared on the elf lord's face, "Perhaps, next time, it would be easier to ask someone instead of trying to climb the packhorse's gear and making a mess."  Elrond's eyes strayed from the saddlebag twisted askew to a pile of apples lying on the ground at the horse's feet.

Pippin grinned impishly as he picked up one of the apples and handed it to Elrond, "Do you want one?"

Laughing, Elrond shook his head and said "Perhaps you and Master Merry should ride up front were we can keep an eye on you and your high spirits."  Pippin quickly picked up the rest of the fallen food and loaded it onto his pony.  The column quickly lined up and started the day's journey.

As Pippin mounted his pony and joined Elrond at the front of the column, Galadriel fell in beside Gandalf.  "You seem grumpy this morning.  Did we keep you up too late last night?" she teased gently.

Gandalf sighed, his face somber and with concern written deep in his eyes.  "I am sorry.  I have a bad feeling about today.  I feel a shadow over the sun and I am not sure where it comes from."

Galadriel's face stilled and her eyes grew distant for a moment.  She continued riding quietly then spoke, "I cannot sense anything at the moment.  Was there something specific you felt?"

"No, just a feeling of unease.  Perhaps I feel only echoes of the past.  Perhaps..."


	2. Clash of Blades

1st Fan Fic

            Disclaimer info: Tolkien is the master who owns all.  I am only a humble fan using his wonderful characters for fun only and not for profit.

            Summary:  AU.  What if Saruman was not idle after the fall of Isengard, (book canon).  Takes place after parting with Aragorn and his knights and before returning to Rivendell.

~~**~~

Chapter 2: Clash of Blades

~~**~~

            Elrond rode at the head of the party along with several members of his household.  He glanced over at the two excited hobbits as they were exchanging stories of the escapades from the night before.  The young hobbits had been quite rambunctious the previous evening and needed to work off some of that energy away from the main party. Hobbits were endearing creatures but they could be a handful at times.

            Elrond turned and looked back to see the progression of the column. Although they were a large company, they were passing through the last of barren hillsides before dropping into more forested lands on the westward slopes of the Misty Mountains.  The path before them was somewhat narrow and the column was soon strung along the hills.  Black specks appeared in the far distant western sky then quickly disappeared.

             "Lord, did you see that?" asked the scout Galderen.

            "See what?" asked Elrond.

            "To the west, just above the top of the hills.  There appeared a number of black birds, then they suddenly flew down behind the rocks."

            "Were they _crebain_? Or something else perhaps."

            "I could not tell.  I only saw them for a moment and it was not a large flock."

            Lord Elrond turned back in his seat to face his scout and froze.  Galderen's eyes stared straight ahead, unmoving, his body suddenly slid to the right, with a large black shaft protruding from the back of his neck, blood running down.  His eyes lifted to see black shadows streaming from folds and cracks in the hills coming towards him.  Finally, sound caught up with them and the war cries and battle shouts assaulted his ears.

            "Sound the call to battle!" bellowed Elrond, even as he turned his horse and drew his blade to face the onrush.  One elf reached for the horn of alarm, but before he could sound it, Merry grabbed the Horn of Rohan and blew a blast.  The other elves formed a line in front of their lord and started to charge.

~~**~~

            A loud and surprising horn call broke through the early morning air.  Everyone jumped and looked around frantically trying to see the source of the call.

            "That's Master Merry's horn!" yelled Sam.  Sam looked around for Frodo and made sure that his pony was next to his master's.

            Celeborn glanced at Galadriel's ashen face for a moment, then quickly drew his blade and began ordering the column into a defensive position.  Swiftly, black darts began flying into the group from all directions and mighty Uruk Hai war cries broke the stillness, bodies running in from all directions. Galadriel and her guards surrounded Frodo and Sam and began firing back at the swarm of orcs.

            A series of deep twangs rang the air in response to the waves of onrushing Uruks. Many suddenly stopped, staring at yard long shafts sticking out of them.  Repeatedly, the great longbows hummed and black bodies began piling up.  More and more orcs and Uruks continued to race in and vicious hand to hand combat began.

~~**~~

            "Elrond!" screamed Glorfindel.  "He's in trouble!  Arrow formation, ride forward!"  The twenty riders around him moved into formation and began moving forward towards the mass of black bodies separating Glorfindel from his lord.  Unfortunately, the gap continued to widen as more Uruks spilled into the path.  

            The elves fought bitterly to rejoin their comrades but the press of bodies was too much and Glorfindel was forced to retreat back to the main host.  He could see the battle turning against the elf lord and several members of the household were lying on the battlefield.

            "Gandalf!  We cannot get to him!  Help us!"

            Gandalf stared straight ahead, glassy eyed, mumbling strange phrases. "No, Saruman, you shall not have victory this day."  All of his concentration was on a battle not seen.  Shadowfax pranced sideways avoiding Uruk bodies, but not understanding his rider's lack of attention.

Glorfindel grabbed the mane of Shadowfax, and pulled hard.  He shouted to the horse to follow and started the slow retreat towards the main host.  Shadowfax felt his rider's indifference and followed the others, occasionally stepping and grinding his hooves on orcs in his path back towards safety.

~~**~~

            The shiny blade quickly darkened with black blood as it rose and fell in a steady rhythm.  _Are the mountains sending every last orc against us?_ Elrond thought.  He was hard pressed to keep near the young hobbits and his guard was steadily falling to arrows and worse. He heard Glorfindel's yell, and tried to rejoin his friend but could not.  They were being forced apart by a mass of squirming, screaming bodies.  _We must flee.  They will overwhelm us if we remain a sitting target._

"Retreat, flee to the forest ahead of us!  Follow me through the hills!"  roared the elven voice that carried throughout the battlefield.  Merry and Pippin having trouble holding their ponies under control, had their reins grabbed by an elf and were lead behind the elven lord. Several riders remained behind to buy time to escape.  

            A harsh Uruk voice barked "Cut them off.  Do not allow them to escape to the trees."  A black wave gathered and raced after their quarry.

TBC


End file.
